


Comin' to Steal Yo Girl (And Her Dad)

by chucks_prophet



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Arcades, Castiel Has Taught Her Well, Castiel is Claire Novak's Parent, Cute Dean, Dean is a Child At Heart, Dean is good with kids, Dean's Birthday, Episode: s07e14 Plucky Pennywhistle's Magical Menagerie, Featuring the Famous Giant Rainbow Slinky, First Meetings, Fluff, Humor, M/M, No Angst, Plucky's, Sam Is So Done, Sassy Claire Novak, Single Dad Castiel, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Young Claire Novak, awkward first meetings, but still an AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-14
Updated: 2017-11-14
Packaged: 2019-02-02 06:05:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12721077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chucks_prophet/pseuds/chucks_prophet
Summary: “What’re you doing with my daughter?”“Your—” Dean drops the bundle of tickets he’s been holding with pride. “Um… Sam, help me here!”Meanwhile, his brother’s too busy leaning against the side of the noisy Pac-Man machine to support his laughter.“I got ten dollars, Daddy!” Claire exclaims, waving the bill a foot above her height.Dean scratches the back of his neck. “I… may have bribed a kid to be my daughter to impress you? Who, turns out, is your daughter…”





	Comin' to Steal Yo Girl (And Her Dad)

**Author's Note:**

> A huge thank you to my friend Taylor. This came about over a heated discussion about our mutual disrespect towards people who stan J2 and hate Misha and think that every time Jensen states that he loves Misha, like this past weekend, he's doing it for "good PR" (I have many feelings). She mentioned the (obviously joking) idea of paying kids to pretend-be in a family like some stans may or may not believe and I was like, "OH MY GOD DEAN WOULD" and turned the negative side of the fandom into something positive wowow. :D <3

“Seriously, Dean, Plucky Pennywhistle’s?”

“ _Seriously, Sam_?” Dean mocks, “You loved this place. I had to drag you out screaming.”

“I was screaming _before_ you came to pick me up. After you ditched me, no less.”

Dean waves his hand. “Tomato, Toemato. C’mon, it’ll be fun.”

Sam scoffs, “Dean, you’re thirty and you wanna hustle kids at pinball.”

“I don’t know about you, sourpuss, but I’m a child at _heart.”_

Sam tosses Dean one of his classic bitch faces before raising his long, gangly arms as white flags in defeat. They both know it’s a fruitless argument. Dean’s the kind of guy that would rather chase his youth in a _Fast and Furious_ arcade booth than spend his birthday in a club getting wasted.

An hour passes with everything going along smoothly. Dean’s racking up points at skeeball against his worthy opponent, Lucas. Dean bets all or nothing for Lucas’s ticket ball and wins, but he’s surprisingly a good sport about it because Dean’s sporting a Led Zeppelin shirt. (Honestly, Dean assumes takes his friends’ words, those with kids, that the education system went to a skee ball in a ten-point hole until hearing those words from a ten-year-old’s mouth confirmed not all hope is lost.)

He even manages to score some points with Lucas’s mom, who, like a few others, lines up to fan herself, watching on as Dean gives Lucas such amazing “affection” and “sensitivity” despite Sam insisting he literally _robbed Lucas’s tickets._

He also meets Krissy, who’s a few years older than Lucas from the looks of it, but still totally kicks ass—literally, she kicks Dean’s ass at _Maximum Tune 3._ And even more, when Dean tries to fist-pump her, she trades him a disgusted look, like he’s a peasant asking for sparkled water. (Apparently it’s 2017 and fist-pumps aren’t cool anymore.)

When another kid, Aidan, who’s obviously into her for how long he was burning holes into Dean’s skull waiting his turn, slips into Dean’s seat to challenge her, Dean leans in to whisper his condolences.

He’s making his stride for the _Dance Dance Revolution_ machine to embarrass Sam even further when he spots a man at the ticket counter. It’s an impressive hoard of tickets. Not as big as Dean’s, but enough to get himself something that’d probably cost a whopping $5 at a toy store.

Dean can only see his side profile, but that’s enough to make out all he needs to be totally and completely smitten. His cotton candy texture brown hair. His Ring Pop Blue eyes. His pink, flat and somewhat cracked lips like a well-loved artgum eraser. His stubbled jawline cut straighter than any card from a baseball deck, and his long, tanned neck whose Adam’s apple looks like it’s stuck in a Japanese Finger Trap the way it bobs as he ponders the selection.

After another minute, Dean sees the man point at something and the teen behind the counter unenthusiastically pull it out: a giant rainbow slinky.

That’s right.

A giant.

Rainbow.

Slinky.

Sam’s still hanging out on the sidelines, though he managed to get somewhat invested in _Pac-Man_ when Dean races over to him before shoving his shoulder. “Dude! Ah, man.” Sam grumbles when the “game over” sound chimes like trolls on a bridge refusing to let him pass. “This better be good.”

“You see that guy moving to 2 o’clock?”

Sam eyes Dean before looking in that direction. “Yeah, so?”

 “So, he’s _hot.”_

“Okay.”

“ _’Okay’?”_ Dean scorns, hands flying to his waist. “That’s all you have to say?”

“I don’t know, Dean, did you check to see if he’s wearing a _Ring Pop?”_

“It didn’t look like he was.”

Sam drops his head. “Dean.”

“What?” Dean argues, sounding truly petulant now. “You’re the college boy, you’re supposed to be the one with the bright ideas!” Then, his eyes widen as he snaps his fingers. “I got it."

Sam looks above him and shakes his head, mumbling, “Why me, God?” as Dean’s plan hatches from its shell when he catches a girl walking past him.

“Quick, kid, I’ll pay you $5 dollars to be my daughter for five seconds.”

The girl folds her arms over her tank top, which appropriately displays Grumpy Cat. “Double or nothing.”

Dean throws his head back, bewildered hearing the words of his fifty-eight year old bookie with smoke-filled balloons for lungs stumble from a nine-year-old’s mouth. Pulling a crisp ten from his war-weathered wallet, he scoffs, “What’re they teaching you in school? Here. Now act like you actually care—ha-ha! Oh sweet… child o’ mine, you’re so funny! You crack me up!”

The girl laughs along with Dean, mostly out of amusement, but he’ll take it. Dean turns to Sam to weigh his mouth-dropping, frozen in time reaction that conveys his disbelief that they’re related.

Then Dean sees the handsome dad walking towards them with purpose. Dean’s heart races in anticipation, and God, who knew fluorescent lighting could do wonders for someone? “Claire?”

And just as quick, Dean’s heart comes to a stop—and not just from that deep, raspy voice that comes out of Mr. Rainbow Slinky. He glances between the girl and the man again. “I, uh… what?”

“What’re you doing with my daughter?”

“Your—” Dean drops the bundle of tickets he’s been holding with pride. “Um… Sam, help me here!”

Meanwhile, his brother’s too busy leaning against the side of the noisy _Pac-Man_ machine to support his laughter.

“I got ten dollars, Daddy!” Claire exclaims, waving the bill a foot above her height.

Dean scratches the back of his neck. “I… may have bribed a kid to be my daughter to impress you? Who, turns out, is _your_ daughter…”

“And why did you bribe my daughter exactly?”

Dean grinds down on his teeth and produces a light hissing noise as he sucks through them, and that pretty much answers the guy’s question, but it’s now or never, he thinks, forcing the gates open: “Iwastryingtoimpressyou.”

The man opens his mouth only to quickly close it. He tries again, this time folding his arms over his chest, like daughter like father. “Honestly…”

Dean closes his eyes, preparing for the worst. He can handle being punched in the face or kicked out for being a weirdo. It’s not like he hasn’t had just this one stupid idea in his thirty years on this planet. (And it wouldn’t be his first time getting punched or kicked out of somewhere on his birthday.)

“I don’t know if I’m more jealous or turned on.”

“ ** _What?”_** Dean and Sam rejoin in appalled unison.

The man laughs, “I’ve been hit on a lot, mostly by drunk middle-aged men and women alike, but this pick-up move definitely tops the cake. And it’s hard for a single dad to make the first move. Your plan had its flaws, and I’ll admit, it was pretty harebrained, but you committed to it.” He pauses to blush. “Plus, you’re gorgeous, so it works.” He pauses again, gesturing to Claire in an attempt to gather himself, who’s still triumphantly holding her ten dollars. “And Claire cashed out, so there’s that. Now she can buy me a replacement slinky.”

“You broke the slinky already?” Dean gasps, somehow more surprised by that than anything else. (Except being called gorgeous. That one’s sticking.)

“My coordination is questionable at best,” he responds, “the slinky was the unfortunate victim in the fall.”

Dean shakes his head. “No.”

The man does a cute little head tilt that speeds up Dean’s heart again. “No?”

“I’m winning you that slinky back if it takes all night…”

“Cas,” the man finishes with a sideways smile.

“Cas,” Dean inserts, reaching out to grab Cas’s hand, “I’m Dean. And we’re gonna play skeeball.”

“Don’t go too far, Claire!” Cas yells over his shoulder before being willingly dragged in the opposite direction.

Claire turns to Sam. Sam’s the first to speak: “You any good at _Pac-Man?”_


End file.
